Official Disclaimer: Sooooooooo the YeahWrite prompt this week involved the option to write a sestina. I had never heard of such a thing, so I figured, why not? How hard could it be? Hard. Apparently it could be pretty frikkin' hard.😂 Moments Accumulated Tempers became Elevated Budding conflict Escalated He became Intoxicated. Gender roles Perpetuated.... Continue Reading →

It's been a while! My six month hiatus from blogging has been real, but I'm over it. 2018 has been a year of dramatic change and boundless opportunity, and I'm grateful for every second of it. I'm here to share. In April of 2018, I was the heaviest I've ever been in the 36 years... Continue Reading →

I didn’t marry my husband so he would protect and provide for me, and he didn’t marry me so I would wash his dishes. I married him because we love each other and we’re PARTNERS in this life. Partners work together to achieve a mutual goal. For us, that goal is happiness. If something needs... Continue Reading →

In 1998 I was sixteen years old and about as lost as a person can be. Then I met Mrs. Gaspari. As it was, I loved to write. I wrote anything and everything: sonnets, free-form nonsense poetry, essays. You name it, I tried it. And it all basically sucked. So when registration for Junior year... Continue Reading →

Gullible phub Thewless prodigy Prodigal daughters of our time. Erudition superstition Not at odds here. No bolt may stifle The freedom of your consciousness. Burn down the library And crucify the church If you must. The padlocks you’ve purchased are your own to pound. Written for Week #3 of Nate's poetry class, Fun With... Continue Reading →

I have to admit that when it comes to being what some would consider a “progressive parent” I probably don’t win any awards. Sure, I try to teach my kids the importance of Christian love, charity, social justice, etc.. However, I sleep pretty soundly at night, even after hearing my son tell me he killed 45 people with direct “head shots” on the XBOX.

I also am guilty, along with a great many other parents throughout the history of Western Civilization, of assuming that my children are not really all that interested or attuned to what is going on in the world. So when my son asked me the other day if we can attend the “March for Our Lives” gathering in Washington D.C. to protest gun violence, I was a little surprised.

As a Father I try to be very small (d) democratic. For all my parents neo-conservatism I…

This absurd anarchy prevails. When Idle, we collide. Destitute and empty And we come here to devour. To discern This excruciating Karma. It is what it is, isn't it? Just a maelstrom of Programmed obsolescence. We are utterly alone. We are wretched. I still write poetry because shit like Stinkfist exists, and I want to... Continue Reading →

“Hey guys! I’m home!” I kick off my Dr. Scholl's flats and plop onto the loveseat. If I reach for the hem of my slacks and hoist my ankle up onto my other knee, I can cross my legs. The girth of my middle is like an inner-tube as I struggle to reach it, but... Continue Reading →